


A Week Earlier

by SpiderBitch



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderBitch/pseuds/SpiderBitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro screws up again and Dave finds himself living with the Egberts a week earlier than planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Week Earlier

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've suddenly really become obsessed with FatherTime and wrote this, as a result. I apologise for any errors, grammatical or otherwise. This is my first homestuck fic so I also apologise if it's really bad. This chapter is pretty much just an introduction to the story.  
> Rating is T for now but will probably go up as well as more tags if the story continues. Thank you very much for reading!

Your name is Dave Strider and you have no idea what the hell is going on. You just came home from school, only to find your apartment in a mess. Well yeah, the apartment is always in a mess but this is completely different. There are clothes and papers strewn across the floor, your TV is broken and you are practically up to your knees in smuppet ass.

 Kicking away the smuppets at your feet, you move into a vague fighting stance while drawing your sword from your strife specibus.  The door to the hallway is ajar and you flashstep there, avoiding the random junk lying on the floor. There are noises coming from behind the door, rattles and bangs and clangs. You lift your leg slightly, ready to kick it open and fight whoever is there but when you do, you feel something clamp around your ankle.

 Before you know it, your sword is on the floor and Bro is holding onto your ankle with his left hand and both your wrists with the other. The position is annoyingly awkward, with your leg now raised to right below your chest and arms raised above your head. You make no attempt to move, knowing he'd just make you fall.

 "You're growing rusty," he comments before letting go, leaving you to stumble before you regain balance quickly.

 You stare at him. He stares back with his eyebrow slightly quirked up, daring you to ask.

 "What the hell happened?" You ask, trying to keep your cool.

 "Nothing of importance," he replies, shrugging. 

 You roll your eyes. "Bro, seriously, what the fuck. I swear, if this is some part of your shitty training-"

 "Dave," he says warningly, cutting you off. You glare at him.

 "Just listen to me and don't ask any goddamn questions right now okay?" He says in a voice that you know means serious shit, so you shut up.

 "You can't stay here, at least not for awhile and especially when I'm not here. Don't ask questions," he growls when he sees your mouth open in protest. "I called Egbert and he said you can stay a week earlier than planned. Your flight to Washington is in twelve hours."

You want to believe it's a joke or a part of "training" but there's something in his voice and even though you can't see past his shades, you know he's looking at you differently and it honestly worries you. He walks past you and flops down onto the futon.

You're not really sure what to say so you blurt out the first thing you think of.

 "I still have half a week of school left."

He snorts at that. "Which you were already planning on skipping."

He's got you there.

You sigh and walk over to the futon. Lying on his back, he's taken off his shades and his eyes are squeezed shut. You sit down on the floor, cross-legged. He rubs his eyes.

"It's for your own good, y'know." Bro says, eyes open and staring at the ceiling. You can't help but wonder what he did this time.

"How bad is it?" You ask, voice quieter than before. 

He groans, sighs then shakes his head and doesn't say anything. You take that as a bad sign. You know your bro has done bad shit and the repurcussions have affected you more than once but it's never gotten to the point where you have to go into hiding.

You both stay like that for a few minutes, not saying a word, until Bro tells you very quietly to go and pack. Surprisingly, you listen and make your way to your room.

 Your room is as messy as the rest of the apartment but this is obviously the work of the tornado that is Bro. You grimace as you take in the mess and the half packed luggage on your bed. The drawers have been emptied and the clothes that aren't already packed lie in a heap next to your bed. You begin repacking the clothes and look around your room for anything you can actually take with you. 

 You're packing your camera and a few extra rolls of film when your phone buzzes. It's a message from John on Pesterchum but you ignore it for now.  In all honesty, you had been stuck between dreading visiting the Egberts and looking forward to it. You can't wait to see your best bro again after a year but the freaking  _suburbs_ , man. You can't stand it.

 Well, that and the fact that you are harbouring a major homocrush on a particular fedora-wearing Egbert but are determined to ignore it for as long as possible. Which probably won't be long considering you'll be staying in his house in less than twenty-four hours. You swallow hard at that but go back to packing.

 After packing, you drag your luggage to the floor and curl up in bed. Your brain won't seem to shut up so you lie there for hours, wondering and worrying about what the hell happened and what the hell you're going to do.  You try not to think of it and slowly, your mind wanders to thoughts of John's dad. Until last summer, all you knew of him was that he liked to bake and prank John and that sometimes, he'd combine the two. 

 You'd never seen him properly, only glimpses of him when you were on video chat with John. That is, until the double cake prank.

 You were on video chat with John, talking for about an hour, when his dad told him to do his homework. John ignored him, of course, and continued talking to you. You were talking about the latest SBaHJ update when you saw something move behind John. There was a little bang as something fell off his table and as he bent down to pick it up, you saw his father standing behind him. He had a cake in one hand, and his other hand was pressed to his lips, making a shushing motion. The brim of his fedora covered his eyes and he was grinning.

 You just stared at him, his mouth specifically. His teeth was so white and straight and it looked like teeth fresh out of a toothpaste commercial. After an eternity of you just staring at him, John sat up again and you wish you had recorded his reaction 'cause you're so sure he shat his pants the second he saw his father.

 Mr. Egbert slammed the cake on his son's face and you couldn't help but laugh at it. John yelled as he tried to wipe the frosting off his face but once he got most of it off, his dad got another cake out of his sylladex and once again, John's face was covered in frosting and cream. You started laughing even harder.

 He got up and ran for the bathroom, yelling at his dad the whole time. His dad just grinned even wider as he watched him run. He turned to you then and his smile softened. You stopped laughing. He came closer to the camera and began to speak to you.

 "I am very sorry, David but," he paused, looking towards where John ran off. You could see his eyes then, a soft baby blue with a mishievous glint. "John is rather preoccupied with something at the moment."

 "Have a nice week, David." He said and before you could say anything back, he turned the call off.

 That was the first time you really noticed Mr. Egbert and after that, you always looked for glimpses of a fedora and a too-perfect smile. 

 Overeager schoolgirl crush aside, you begin to look forward to seeing John earlier despite the circumstances that led to it. At least you'll get to stare at Mr. Egbert for an extra week.

 

* * *

 Bro wakes you up at one and you take a shower. You take longer than usual, thinking about everything. When you're done, you walk into the living room and you see him sitting on the futon with his head in his hands. You decide to leave him on his own for a while more and go back to your room.

 Finally checking Pesterchum, you see that it's all excited messages from John and you actually smile. Maybe it really won't be so bad.

 Bro calls for you and you get your stuff and leave. He's at the door, keys in hand and he nods when he sees you with your luggage. You both walk down in tense silence and when you get to your bro's old, rusty pickup truck, you dump your stuff at the back before climbing in the passenger seat. 

 The ride there is unsuprisingly quiet and you reach the airport in half an hour. He sighs when he parks and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a phone you've never seen and holds it out to you. You eye it warily.

 "Don't use your old phone anymore, okay?" He says, dropping the phone into your lap. "Transfer whatever you need to this phone and use it instead. I'll message you every night or so just to check up on you and you better reply or I'll come down to Maple Valley and whoop your ass myself." 

 You nod tersely and turn to look at him properly. "So where are you going after this?"

 "Back to the apartment then I have a flight in a few hours."

He doesn't tell you where and you don't ask. You both sit there for a while more before he finally unbuckles his seatbelt and leaves. He gets your stuff and you get out of the truck as well, pocketing the phone. He drags your luggage for you as you trail behind him, arms crossed.

 The airport is filled with both grumpy people who haven't had enough coffee and annoyingly cheerful people who've had more than enough. You're glad you managed to sleep, even if only for a few hours, 'cause there is no way you'll be able to sleep on the plane.

 Bro stops when you reach the correct terminal and sits down on one of the empty benches, your luggage at his feet. You follow and sit next to him. The corner of his lips are turned down slightly and you want to ask what's wrong but you bite down on your tongue. He reaches into his pocket once more and pulls out a wad of cash tied together with a rubber band.

 "This is just in case anything happens," he swallows. "if anything happens to me. It's not all of the money I have saved but it's just in case you need the cash." He ends his sentence by dropping the money into your lap.

 He's nervous and that's something you never thought he'd be. The other times he got in trouble, it would be settled in a few days or at most, a week. But this is, frankly, kinda scary. Bro has never been anything but calm and collected and yet, here he is. Sending you to stay in a different state with almost all the clothes you have and what looks like at least five hundred bucks.

 You think about the times when you were younger and he told you he was a superhero. That that was why he was gone so many times and at the weirdest times. You believed him and you looked up to him, idolised him even. Then you grew up and realised he was just a guy with a puppet fetish who got into illegal shit. He never did tell you what he did but eventually, it became pretty obvious.

 After a while, there's a short announcement stating that passengers can now board the flight to Seattle. You both stand and face each other and he breaks the awkward silence.

 "Don't fuck anything up, okay?" He says, attempting a smile. 

 Your promise you won't and you only hope he doesn't either. You smile back and he ruffles your hair, an old sign of affection he used to show when you were a kid. He hold his fist out to you and you raise your own fist, bumping his.

 "I'll sort everything out and you'll be home before you know it." 

 You really wish you still believed he was a superhero.

 

 

 


End file.
